I drove past lots of parking lots filled with attendees at local graduations in June. Every year, the sight triggers a memory about June 1975. That year, I was a recent graduate of Penn State’s English program and I was riding across campus on my squeaky three-speed bicycle. I rode by an event at the agriculture school and decided to stop.
In the greenhouses, I saw seas of seedlings preening for sunlight. Outdoors, vegetable trials thrived in neat rows with scientific-looking labels. The scents of a dairy operation added to the effect.
The energy of the place was palpable and, as I rode away, I said to myself: “This is what I should have studied.”